


If I Ever Were to Lose You (I'd Surely Lose Myself)

by roosterbox



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Angst, Childbirth, Copious Endearments, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mpreg, My First Work in This Fandom, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, difficult birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 10:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2647895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roosterbox/pseuds/roosterbox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames and Arthur begin a new chapter of their lives.</p>
<p>But it doesn't come without complications.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Ever Were to Lose You (I'd Surely Lose Myself)

**Author's Note:**

> Weee! My first Inception fic!
> 
> Heed the tags - there be much fluff and much angst ahead.

The stark white and acidic smell of hospital rooms never did sit right with Eames.  Too much time spent in one as a boy.

He sat, in a terribly uncomfortable plastic chair, as close to Arthur’s bed as he could get, barring actually climbing in beside him.  The nurse, an old battleaxe whose very demeanor screamed ‘not to be trifled with,’ had warned him against it.  But, with every moment that passed, he considered telling her to sod off.

He held Arthur’s hand, willing it with all his strength to close over his fingers.  To be able to look into those lovely brown eyes again.  Every time he thought he felt a twitch, he looked up; but Arthur did not wake.  Three days now.  Three days without Arthur glaring at him after one pet name too many.  Without seeing Arthur laugh, getting a glimpse of those dimples he so loved.

“Come now, darling,” he murmured to his unconscious husband, “this is taking beauty sleep just a bit too far.”

To his shame, he had barely spared a thought to his newborn son.  All Eames’ attention was for his beloved, who had gone through hell to bring his child into the world.

The day he found out Arthur was pregnant was still one of the happiest days of his life.

Eames had arrived home later than intended.  The crew he was working with was strictly by-the-book, but still on the level.  It was one thing they had agreed upon immediately when they were married – they would keep in dreamshare (to quit when both of them were the best of their kind was ludicrous), but they would do it right.  Legal.  It may have been boring, but it was stable.

Arthur had been curled up on the couch, swathed in a comfy knitted blanket, a movie playing quietly in the background.

“Alright, Arthur?” Eames asked as he set his jacket on a hook by the door.

“Hmm?  Yeah,” Arthur replied.  “For the time being anyway,” he mumbled under his breath.  Eames barely heard it.

“Still not over that stomach bug I see.”  He toed off his shoes and sat down beside Arthur.  It took a few seconds but then, gradually, the other man moved into his arms.

“In a sense,” Arthur said, his voice strangely amused.  They sat like that for a while, not really watching the movie.  Just enjoying each other’s company, basking in the warmth.

Arthur let out a quiet sigh.  A sound of resignation.

“Eames,” he began.

“Hmm?”

“Have you ever thought about having children?”

Eames blinked, not quite understanding the shift in topics.

“Not sure I’m following your chain of thought, pet.”

Arthur shifted until he could look Eames in the eye.  “It’s not that complicated, Danny.  We’re not getting any younger.”

“I realize that, Arthur.  I’m just-”

“And you already have quite a rapport with Phillipa and James.  You’d make a great daddy, much to my surprise.”

Eames huffed in annoyance, but did not interrupt again.

“So I’ll ask again.”  Very serious.  Typical Arthur.  “Have you ever thought about having children?  With…me?”

Eames couldn’t help a small smirk.  Trust his dearest to treat a simple question like an interrogation.

“Uh, sure, darling.  I mean, now that we’re firmly on the up and up, it’d be easier to settle down with a child.”  He took his husband’s hand, as he usually did when bringing up what he knew was a touchy subject.  “Neither of us had the most ideal of childhoods, but we at least have an understanding of what not to do, yeah?  And I _do_ love spending time with the Cobb sprogs.  Now tell me: why the sudden interest?”

Arthur bit his lip.  He turned away.

Eames eyes widened.  “Arthur?  Darling?  You’re not…are you?”

A pause, and then…Arthur nodded slowly.  He still would not look at Eames.

The older man wasn’t usually one to be surprised, but this caught him completely off guard.  A child.  Arthur, his beloved Arthur, was pregnant with his firstborn.  He felt trepidation and giddiness in equal measure.  This was one of the most important moments of his life; surely he could think of something meaningful to say?

“I’m going to be a father.  Bloody hell,” he managed.  _Dammit_.  Arthur finally turned to look at him.  The younger man took his hand and gently placed it on his still-flat stomach.  It was ridiculous, far too early, but Eames fancied that he could feel movement under his hand.

“I love him or her already,” he said.

Arthur snorted.  “He or she is smaller than my fingernail right now.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Eames stated with finality.  Keeping his one hand firmly in place on Arthur’s belly, he leaned forward; the younger man met him halfway in a searing kiss.

It had not been an easy pregnancy.  Arthur was naturally slender, and had a hard time putting on weight.  He ached constantly.  Oftentimes the only way for him to get a comfortable night’s sleep was for him to take up the entire bed, leaving Eames to shuffle to the couch.  He was always apologetic about it, but Eames didn’t mind.  And the morning sickness.  Eames now knew that term to be a misnomer.  In the last eight and a half months, Arthur spent more time in the bathroom than in any other room of the house.  It became so bad that he developed ulcers along his esophagus, which would occasionally bleed.  Eames did his utmost to keep his darling comfortable, but Arthur was miserable, which in turn made Eames miserable.

He joked that it was karma.  All those years spent skirting the law had finally caught up with them.  Arthur hadn’t found it nearly as amusing as he did.

He’d been down in the kitchen, putting water on the boil, when he heard his husband’s frantic cry.

“Eames!”

Arthur was panicked.  Arthur never got panicked.

Forgetting everything, Eames raced up the stairs, taking them nearly three at a time.  He found Arthur sitting on the bed, hand clutched to the bump of his midsection, blood flowing from between his legs, steadily soaking the bedspread.

For once, Arthur hadn’t argued about Eames driving his car.

They made it to the hospital in record time.  Arthur’s regular OB/GYN was out of town – after all, the C-section wasn’t scheduled for another two weeks – but she assured them that her colleague, Dr. Carlson, was more than capable of delivering their child.  After the events of that day Eames wasn’t so sure of this.  They wouldn’t let him in the delivery room.  There had been blood.  So much blood.  He may have threatened grievous harm to Carlson’s more delicate parts once or thrice.  It’s not on, he tried to remember, to threaten the lives of the people trying to deliver your firstborn.

Baby Eames was born healthy.  Ten fingers, ten toes, and a very strong set of lungs.  But Arthur had bled.  And bled.  And bled.  Even after they’d managed to stop it, Arthur slept.  For three days he slept.  Eames barely had.  He’d only left Arthur’s side once, except to visit the men’s room, in three days.  To see his son in the nursery.  The boy still hadn’t been given a name…

Eames awoke to the sensation of fingers carding through his hair.  He jerked his head upright.  Tired brown eyes stared back at him.  At last, there were those eyes he’d loved for so long.  Looking at him with bemused affection.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again, love,” he said, trying for flippant amusement, but his voice cracked on the endearment.  He leaned closer, and hoped Arthur was ready for the snogging of a lifetime.

“Eames,” the younger man said, distracting him enough that, finally, he noticed the bundle nestled in the crook of Arthur’s other arm.  His son.  Their son.

The baby was quiet.  Not asleep, but blinking tiredly.  Understandable.  The last three days had been just as taxing for him as for them.  Eames gently touched his son’s soft, almost downy covering of hair.  It was dark, like his mother.  Too soon to really tell, but Eames secretly hoped the child got Arthur’s dimples as well.

His son fixed blue eyes on him.  _‘Who are you, stranger?’_ they seemed to say.

“Hello there, little one,” Eames said, voice a little heavy.  “I’m your papa.”  The calm motions he was making with his hand were startlingly effective; the boy’s eyes slowly drooped closed.  He was asleep in moments, and Eames knew enough about kids not to take that for granted while he could.  He’d heard enough horror stories from Mal and Ariadne, thank you very much.

“What’s his name?” Eames asked.  He had decided, in the earlier, more difficult time of Arthur’s pregnancy, that his husband would have first choice of names.  It seemed like the least he could do, being technically the cause of all Arthur’s discomfort.

“Julian,” the other man said promptly.  It had always been one of his favorites.  “Julian Daniel Eames.”

Eames felt tears at the corners of his eyes.  Suddenly his heart felt far too big in his chest.

“It’s perfect, darling.  He’s perfect.  As I knew he would be.”

Arthur smiled, dimples prominently on display, and Eames couldn’t help but smile back.  Moving sluggishly, careful not to jostle the bundle in his arms, Arthur scooted over in the bed.  He patted the empty space and looked at Eames expectantly.

There was almost nothing Eames wanted more, but first…

He peeked out the door, looking for Nurse Battleaxe.  _No sign.  I think I’m safe._

Slowly, carefully, equally conscious of the sleeping child, Eames crawled into the bed next to his husband.  Some slight maneuverings later, he found himself with an arm around Arthur, head resting on his shoulder, Julian tucked securely between them.  He could feel Arthur’s hand along his side, rubbing back and forth, a practiced comforting motion.  Never again did he want to imagine losing this.

“I love you, darling.  So much.” Eames spoke quietly.

“I know,” Arthur sleepily said back, but without his usual snarky undertones.  “Me too.”

Baby Julian’s drowsiness was contagious, it seemed; Eames found himself drifting off too.

“The next one should get _your_ name, Arthur.  ‘s only fair.”

“Next one?”

Eames smiled into Arthur’s shoulder.

“Yeah, next one.  But let’s let that wait for a bit, huh?”  He felt Arthur’s slow nod in return.  There was a sudden weight on his head.  He wasn’t the only one falling asleep.

“You’ll be here when I wake up…right, love?” He asked cheekily.  As if his darling would be anywhere else.

“Go to _sleep_ , Mr. Eames.”  The words were slurring, but he could still hear the roll of Arthur’s eyes in his voice.

Eames fell asleep with a smile on his face.  It was all right.  Everything was all right.  He was with his family.  All was right in the world again.

~~~~

_If I ever were to lose you_  
 _I’d surely lose myself_   
_Everything I have found dear_   
_I’ve not found by myself_   
_Try and sometimes you’ll succeed_   
_To make this man of me_   
_All my stolen missing parts_   
_I’ve no need for anymore_

**Pearl Jam** – Future Days  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, comment and let me know!
> 
> Got a tumblr? If you want, you can follow me [right here](http://roosterbox.tumblr.com/)!


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